“After Doctor Lamberton departed I closed my eyes and tried to sum up in my mind all that had occurred since I left Memphis, in order to see if I could make anything tangible out of it. The hours dragged slowly along, a faint light struggled through the small aperture misnamed window, a little mouse stole in and began to nibble at the crumbs of bread on the floor, while I watched him intently. It was a relief to me to see any living thing, no matter what it was; it had the effect of keeping my mind from painful subjects. When the little mouse would finish his repast and leave me alone, I would lie on my filthy straw bed and watch his hole for hours at a time, hoping he would come again to keep me company. A large spider had set his net in one corner of the window, in order to capture unsuspecting flies that were constantly coming in and out through the opening. His net was an ingenious piece of workmanship, and it took him several days to finish it; he could throw his fine-spun thread with as much accuracy as a Mexican Greaser could throw his lariat. After he had completed his net, he built a little neat residence for himself near it, so he could sit and look through his window and watch his trap. I noticed that in selecting the location for his residence, he was very particular to place it so that it would not be seen by any insect coming in through the window; he erected his apartments inside, and a little in the rear of the corner of the window-sill, while his net was stretched across it. The web was woven so very fine that it was scarcely visible to the naked eye, and many a bold fly lost his life by being caught in its meshes. Sometimes a vigorous contest would take place, when a fly would make a desperate struggle to free himself; but I noticed that the victim seldom came off victorious. One memorable battle between the spider and a large bumblebee I think worthy to be described. As soon as the bumblebee got one of his legs entangled in the net he commenced to work vigorously to loosen it. The spider came out and took up his position within two inches of the captive, and began to throw his lariat at his leg. The heroic efforts of the bumblebee excited my sympathy, and I would have gone to his rescue if I had been able, but I was helpless. I could only lie still and give him my good wishes. After a while the spider managed to get one leg of his intended victim securely fastened, and I was sorry to think that the poor bumblebee’s fate was to be death; but not so: I was struck with admiration when I saw the brave fellow amputating his own leg by using his teeth. The spider, however, seemed to realize the situation, for while the bumblebee was engaged in amputating the leg he began to hurl his lariat at another, and by the time the amputation was done one more limb was tied fast; but the bumblebee seemed determined to regain his liberty at any cost, so he fell to and took off the other leg, and did it so quickly that the spider did not have time to fasten another, and the gallant hero was free, minus two of his legs. As soon as the bumblebee regained his liberty, instead of retreating, as I expected he would do, he quietly seated himself on the window-sill and watched the spider’s hall, as if he were not satisfied with the result of the fight. After a while, however, he disappeared, and I let my sympathies go with him. The spider’s net was completely destroyed, and I was glad of it, but he set about rebuilding it, which cost him three days’ incessant labor. The little mouse, the spider, and dear Lottie’s picture were my only companions during the long, lonesome days of my captivity. I would lie on my back for many hours at a time, with my eyes riveted on Lottie’s picture, and ask myself a thousand questions: What is Lottie doing at this moment? I wonder if she is thinking of me! Have they made her believe that I ran away of my own accord? Perhaps they have persuaded her to give me up, as one unworthy of her love. Maybe they have induced her to marry Heartsell!’

“‘Heaven have mercy on me!’ I groaned in despair. If I had known then what was going on at home, I dare say my anguish would have been greater still; but I presume it was better as it was, for I might have died if any additional troubles had been thrust upon me, I think that the heroic struggle I had witnessed on the part of the gallant bumblebee to win his freedom had a good effect on me. I became convinced that a man of courage and strength could accomplish anything that was necessary, and I then and there resolved that I would imitate the brave example set by the heroic insect as soon as I recuperated my strength, I would make an effort to regain my liberty, an effort that should break down and trample over all opposition. I would not yield like a base coward, but would be free, or lose my life in the attempt to accomplish that end.

“It was four days after I had regained consciousness before I was able to sit up in my bed. Doctor Lamberton visited me once a day, usually coming early in the morning, and chatted with me a few moments, gave his instructions and retired. Then I would be left alone for the remainder of the day, except when some one would come to bring me food and drink. Then I would divide my time between the mouse, the spider and Lottie’s picture, giving most of my attention, though, to the image of my darling. It was so dark in my cell that I could not read, even if I had had anything in the shape of a book; and then since the fever had left my brain it seemed to be lingering in my eyes, and made them sore and quite sensitive. The doctor brought me a pair of green glasses to protect my eyes, and told me to wear them all the time, as my eyes were in very great danger. My recovery was exceedingly slow.

“As soon as I thought my strength would justify it I wrote a long letter to Lottie, giving in detail all the circumstance that had combined to prevent my return to Memphis. I requested her to see Doctor Dodson, inform him of my situation, and ask him to come to my assistance without a moment’s delay. I also requested her to go and see General Calloway and explain to him the cause of my absence from Horn Lake on the day appointed. I informed her of my illness, but did not tell her how serious it had been. I told her the simple truth when I said that her dear picture had been my chief source of happiness during the long, weary days of my solitary confinement. My letter closed thus:

“‘Always trust me, dear Lottie, no matter what you hear about me. I am now, have ever been, and always will be, as true to you as the needle is to the pole.’

“‘I sealed and delivered that letter to the negro boy, who promised to mail it, but I don’t think he did it, for no such letter ever was received by Lottie. I waited and hoped for Doctor Dodson to come to my assistance; but, alas! I waited and hoped in vain. As soon as I was able to take a little exercise by walking about the room that small comfort was denied me, for a rough blacksmith came in one day and riveted a heavy chain on my ankle, then fastened the other end to a beam in the floor.

“‘There now,’ he exclaimed, when he had finished the job, ‘I guess that’ll keep you this time! By the way, Debar, how did you manage to get those tools?’

“‘What tools are you talking about?’

“‘Why, of course the tools you used in cutting out when you were in here before.’

“‘I never was here before; and my name is not Debar, either.’

“‘Oh! ah! I see how it is—the insane dodge this time. But look here, old fel’, that’s too thin—I should advise you to invent something better.’

“I was glad when the uncouth blacksmith took his leave, but sorry to know that he would make another witness to identify me as the real Debar.

“One morning, while I was endeavoring to amuse myself by watching the strange maneuvers of the spider as he was weaving a new wing to his net, the jailer made his appearance at the door, and began to unlock the inner shutter. He was a rough, drunken brute, who scarcely ever came about me, and when he did, he refused to answer any of my questions; I learned afterward that the rough treatment I had been subjected to was owing to the fact that he thought me the man who had made the escape some time previous. When he had finished unlocking the door a lady came rushing into the room and threw her arms round my neck, exclaiming, as she burst into tears:

“‘Oh, Eddie, why did you let them catch you again? I thought you were safe in Mexico by this time!’

“The jailer had immediately slammed the door to and locked it, leaving us alone. I was paralyzed with astonishment, and unable to utter a word for several seconds. As soon, however, as I recovered my self-possession, I pushed her away rather roughly.

“‘Madame,’ I exclaimed indignantly, ‘you are laboring under a grave mistake. I am not your husband—have not been married—and I never saw you in my life until this moment!’

“She drew back, gazed at me for a moment in a bewildered way, then uttering a most pitiful wail, fell fainting on the floor. I threw some water in her face, and did all I could to revive her, and was gratified to see signs of recovery. She was a very beautiful woman, though her face was quite pale. Her long, black hair came loose and fell in great masses on the floor. Directly she was able to rise, and I saw that she was very much embarrassed. She again fixed her eye intently on me, and appeared to be undecided as to what should be said.

“‘I hope you will pardon me, sir, but you are very like my husband; and then they told me that he was re-arrested, and in this room. I should have known you were not my husband if I had met you in the light, but when I entered this dark cell I could scarcely see my hand before me. I declare, I never have seen two persons so much alike, though you are a little taller than he, I think; and there is a difference in the voice, and perhaps a slight difference in the color of the hair, yours being a shade darker than my husband’s. I am truly sorry, sir, to know that you have been compelled to suffer so for a crime you did not commit, but I rejoice to find that my dear husband has not been retaken. He is innocent, but was unable to prove his innocence. Public sentiment ran high against him, and he was forced to save his life by flight.’

“‘My dear madame,’ said I, ‘you will not hesitate a moment, I hope, in informing the sheriff that he is holding the wrong man in custody. I have suffered indescribable torture since my detention here, and I fear that serious consequences have resulted from my imprisonment.’

“‘Indeed, sir, you shall not remain here another day if anything I can say or do will secure your release. I will go immediately to the proper officers and tell them of the great mistake they have made.’

“She then called the jailer and requested to be allowed to come out.”

“Stop a moment, Dr. Demar,” said Mr. Peniwinkle, rising with his hat in his hand, and bowing low before him and Queen Mary, “I cannot wait any longer; I most humbly beg your pardon for the indignity that we have unwittingly offered you. We have been following you for the last ten days, believing you to be Edward Debar—but I now see what an unfortunate mistake we have made. While we have been watching you, we have let the real criminal get away. We had traced Debar to Memphis, and found where he had his wife concealed, and have been thrown off his track by the great resemblance you bear to him. Indeed, the resemblance must be very striking to have misled us so. We have committed a most unlucky blunder, and have lost our reward. The real criminal has escaped, and we have been so unfortunate as to offer you an unpardonable insult.”

“Not at all, Mr. Peniwinkle,” Ingomar replied; “you only did what you considered right. You thought you were performing your duty as an officer, and I rather feel inclined to applaud, instead of censuring you. It seems that other officers have fallen into the same error. Be seated, Mr. Peniwinkle, and let the matter drop; I would most willingly grant pardon, but where no wrong has been committed, of course there is nothing to pardon.”

Mr. Peniwinkle resumed his seat, and Ingomar went on with his story.

“I must now tell you what was transpiring at Memphis while I was in jail, all of which was afterward related to me by eye-witnesses. General Calloway was at Horn Lake very early on the morning that I had promised to meet him there; so were Harry and his friend Heartsell. Ten o’clock, the hour when we had all agreed to meet, arrived, and every one was at his post but me. After waiting for me until eleven o’clock, Harry became impatient, and intimated to Heartsell that it was his opinion that I had fled.

“‘Yes,’ replied Heartsell, ‘and I’ll bet my last cent he has carried that woman off with him.’

“‘Let him go and welcome,’ said Harry; ‘but I should have been glad to have had one shot at the villain’s carcass before he went.’

“General Calloway made inquiries of all the citizens of the little village, hoping to hear from me, but no one had seen me. I of course had managed to get out of the village quietly without being noticed by any of the residents, as that was in accordance with General Calloway’s instructions, and I suppose that the two officers who had arrested me had not told any one their business; hence I had been carried off without any one knowing anything about it. When twelve o’clock came, and still no tidings of my whereabouts had been obtained, General Calloway became restless and suspicious. Heartsell approached the general and said:

“‘I suppose it is unnecessary for us to wait here any longer. The time agreed on has passed by two hours ago. I think your friend Demar has concluded that “discretion is the better part of valor;” in plain terms, I think he has run away.’

“‘I cannot believe he has done such a cowardly act as that,’ replied General Calloway; ‘some serious accident, I fear, has happened to him. He took the freight train at Memphis, and he may have got hurt on the railroad. It is my duty to have this matter thoroughly investigated, and I mean to do it. I have always believed Demar to be a brave, honorable young man, and I shall not condemn him without positive proof. Of course you and your friend Wallingford had better return to Memphis, while I shall take the necessary steps to ascertain the cause of Demar’s mysterious disappearance.’

“Harry and Heartsell returned to their homes. As they were leisurely riding back in their carriage, it was agreed that Heartsell should renew his suit for Lottie’s hand, and that Harry was to throw the weight of his influence with his sister to induce her to accept him. Those two rash young men were just like thousands of others who are ignorant as to the material composing a true woman’s heart. They imagined that Lottie Wallingford would transfer her heart, with all its pure love, to Mr. Heartsell, and gladly consent to become his wife. But they were building a magnificent castle on a sandy foundation. They had a sad lesson to learn, which it would be well for all men to know. A woman’s heart cannot be traded off and bartered round like a bolt of calico or a bale of cotton, but when it is given to a man, it is his! he may bruise it, he may break it, but he cannot transfer it at will. A man’s heart is a negotiable instrument, transferable at will; but not so with a woman’s. I perhaps should not say that all men’s hearts are negotiable, for I know there are exceptions to that rule, but it will apply in a majority of instances.

“It was night when Heartsell and Wallingford arrived at Memphis, and the first thing they did was to go immediately to the old brick house to ascertain whether the woman was gone or not. They found the building empty. They entered and examined the rooms, and after satisfying themselves that the woman was gone, they departed.

“‘Well, Wallingford,’ observed Heartsell, as they walked toward Mr. Rockland’s house, ‘you see I was right after all; she was undoubtedly Demar’s wife, and they have fled together.’

“‘Yes, that is true, and I am glad we are rid of them. Demar was a greater rascal than I ever thought he was.’

“‘My dear fellow,’ replied Heartsell, ‘I never had any faith in him from the start. I always thought he was a consummate hypocrite. He assumed a pious dignity that I know was all a sham. Wasn’t it fortunate for your sister that I happened to watch his movements?’

“‘Indeed it was, Heartsell; she owes you a big debt, and I dare say if love can pay it she will be glad to liquidate the obligation.’

“‘Ah! you have cause to be proud of your charming sister. Do you know that I think she is the most talented woman I ever knew?’

“‘My sister is a very sensible girl.’

“‘Indeed she is, Wallingford, and she has an angel’s disposition. She is too good for me, but if pure love and devotion can make her happy, be assured she should never know sorrow.’

“‘You have heard of men counting the chickens before they were hatched, haven’t you, Heartsell?’

“‘Of course I have; but what has that to do with this matter?’

“‘Suppose Lottie don’t choose to see things from our standpoint? Suppose she should still put her faith in Demar?’

“‘Oh! that’s not a supposable case; how could she cling to him when she learns his true character?’

“‘Well, you have my good wishes in this new enterprise, and if I can assist you, command me; but here we are at the gate—will you walk in and take tea with me?’

“‘No, not to-night, Wallingford; I’ll go home now; but where can I see you early in the morning?’

“‘At my office.’

“‘Very well, I’ll call early. Good-night, and pleasant dreams to you.’

“When Heartsell parted with Wallingford he sauntered toward his home whistling ‘Mollie Darling’ while visions of triumph floated gaily before his imagination. Since the dreaded enemy had ingloriously fled, he thought as the victor he was entitled to the spoils; in other words, he imagined that since Demar’s flight, Lottie would be glad to throw herself into his arms. He was vain enough to believe that she would be ready to thank him for the great service he had rendered and ask his pardon for having once rejected his suit.

“When Wallingford arrived at home he went immediately to his sleeping room to change his toilet before the supper bell rang. Lighting the gas and looking at his watch, he found it only lacked five minutes to eight; he hurriedly began to arrange his dress. Ten minutes had elapsed after he entered the room when he was startled by a loud scream that went ringing through the house; he ran rapidly to Lottie’s boudoir.

“‘What is the matter, mother?’ exclaimed Wallingford, as he appeared at the door where he saw Lottie lying insensible on a sofa, and Mrs. Rockland standing in the middle of the room wringing her hands, apparently wild with terror. ‘Speak, mother! what in Heaven’s name has happened?’

“‘Some terrible news must have been brought in that letter, for she still holds it crumpled up in her hand. Doctor Demar’s clerk delivered it to her a few moments ago, and when she began to read it she turned deadly pale, then screamed and fainted.’

“‘Demar has eloped with another woman, and she has just now found it out!’

“‘Merciful Providence! my son, is that true?’

“‘It is certainly so; and I trust she will at once discard the hateful villain’s memory from her mind.’

“While this conversation was going on Mrs. Rockland was kneeling by the sofa, bathing Lottie’s pale face with eau-de-Cologne, and in a few moments evidence of returning consciousness appeared. I had explained everything in the letter, telling Lottie that if I did not return by eight o’clock she might know that I was killed, because I would communicate further news if wounded. It might appear to be an unpardonable imprudence on my part to write such a letter, but it must be remembered that I did not intend her to receive it unless I was killed. I had written my will, bequeathing my little estate to her, which was also inclosed in the letter. Lottie was not one of the sort of hysterical women who faint every time they see a worm or a spider, but she was brave, sensible, self-reliant and strong, both mentally and physically. But notwithstanding all her courage and self-possession, she was instantly overpowered by the contents of the letter. As soon as she was able to sit up, Harry attempted to take hold of her hand, when she drew back with a convulsive shudder, at the same time uttering a suppressed scream. Then she cast on her brother such a gaze as to chill the blood in his veins—it was a mixture of horror, scorn, contempt and pity.

“‘Touch me not, I beg you; that hand is red with a hero’s blood, and Cain’s mark is on your brow. You have murdered the noblest, the kindest, the best man that ever called you friend! Oh! my unhappy, rash, inconsiderate brother, pray on your knees until the “crack of doom” and maybe God will pardon you. How could you be so cruel as to shed the blood of a noble big heart whose every throb was in friendship for you? Had you lost sight of the fact that I owed my life to the poor victim whose blood you wantonly shed? How could you face our mother in Heaven, with Eddie’s blood dripping from your murderous hand? If you were to touch me with that bloody hand of yours, it would kill me in five minutes. Did you hate Edward because he was noble, generous and good? Did you envy his gentle disposition, his even temper and greatness of soul? Oh! blessed Redeemer, have mercy on my unfortunate, rash brother, forgive this awful crime and humble his haughty soul.’

“‘Lottie, I swear by the heavens and all the saints that never have I shed one drop of Ed Demar’s blood; he is a hypocritical villain who has betrayed and deceived you; he has eloped with another woman.’

“‘Harry, don’t slander the dead, I beseech you; that would aggravate the awful crime you have committed. Shame! shame on you! Why not kill me quickly as you did Edward, instead of torturing me to death? Why not shed my blood while your hand is in? I have no desire to live any longer in this wicked, cruel world. Why should such as I be permitted to live in the world, when you have hurled my Eddie into a bloody grave? Why not kill me, too?’

“‘Sister Lottie, I most solemnly declare by everything sacred that I have not seen Edward Demar since he left the city yesterday; it is true I challenged him, and he agreed to meet me at Horn Lake to-day at ten o’clock, but instead of keeping his appointment, he has run away with a woman that he brought from Philadelphia.’

“‘Edward told me in his letter that you had forced him into a duel, and that he would be here by eight o’clock if he was not killed; and in that letter was his will leaving his estate to me—how then can you tell me he has run away? You and Heartsell have killed him, and in order to conceal your crime you have invented this falsehood! You may go dig my grave, for there is a sweet spirit calling me to Heaven, and I shall soon go to meet the noblest soul that was ever dismissed from the body by the red hand of murder.”

“‘I will bring Mr. Heartsell here, sister, who will tell you what I say is true.’

“‘Do not mention that man’s name in my presence, for he is more guilty than you, because he has made a dupe of you to destroy Edward. I have tried Edward Demar in adversity, as well as prosperity, and if a legion of such men as Heartsell were to tell me he had proved false, I would not believe it!’

“Lottie then broke completely down, and would have fallen to the floor, but Mrs. Rockland caught her in time to prevent it.

“‘You may put me to bed, mother, I cannot fight it off any longer; I thought I was very strong and brave, but this blow is too much for me. All will soon be over with me, my dear good mother—I feel it very plainly; and when I am dead, I want you to have me buried by the side of Eddie, if his body is ever found. They killed him for loving me, and the blow has killed me, too; poor Viola! tell her I shall expect to meet her in Heaven, where wicked people cannot molest or make us afraid.’

“Mrs. Rockland then attempted to lead Lottie to her bedroom, but was unable to do it, for she fell completely helpless on her mother’s bosom. Harry then stepped forward and attempted to take his sister in his arms, when she began to tremble violently, uttering a loud scream.

“‘Oh, mother, please do not let him touch me with those bloody hands; make him go away!’

“Then she hid her face on her mother’s bosom, while horrible convulsions shook her body.

“‘Look there, mother,’ she exclaimed, as she glared with dilated eyes at her brother, ‘do you see that bloody stain on his brow? That is blood from poor Edward’s heart; drive the cruel murderer away!’

“‘Leave us for the present, my son,’ whispered Mrs. Rockland, ‘she is going mad, I do believe!’

“Harry rushed from the room, frantic with grief, and tortured by an accusing conscience, and began to pace hurriedly through the garden, while a horrible fear that he had really driven his sister mad seized upon him.

Mrs. Rockland called in the servants, who assisted her to carry Lottie to her bedroom; then a messenger was sent after Doctor Dodson, who arrived at nine o’clock. When he entered the room he found the patient in a state of total unconsciousness, and a burning fever had set in, while the eyes had a wild, lusterless appearance. Every now and then her body would tremble violently for a moment, and be seized with severe convulsions, lasting from ten to fifteen seconds; then the nerves would relax, and she would remain quiet until another trembling fit would come on. The convulsions continued until after midnight, and when they ceased, the doctor was compelled to resort to strong stimulants in order to revive his patient. The kind-hearted old physician was too well posted in regard to the science of his profession, and the mysterious influence which the mind exercises over the nerves, not to know that Lottie’s illness was the result of mental distress.

“‘Ah, ha! here we come, madame,’ he exclaimed, as soon as he became convinced that his patient was not going to be tortured by any more convulsions. ‘What has happened to Lottie? Ah, ha! yes, what has happened?’

“Mrs. Rockland, with tremulous voice, proceeded to give a detailed history of everything that had occurred, while tears streamed from her eyes.

“‘Ah, ha! I see how it is. Oh, that rash boy! I wonder if he has been so cruel as to hurt Edward?’

“He called on Heaven to witness the truth of his assertion that he had never drawn one drop of Edward’s blood; declared that he had not seen him since day before yesterday. I believe he told the truth, for, with all his faults, he would not tell a lie; never has that rash boy uttered a falsehood in my presence, nor has he ever in any manner attempted to deceive me. He affirms that Edward has eloped with a woman that he brought from Philadelphia.’

“‘Ah, ha! that is a pretty story indeed! I say, eloped with another woman! ah, ha! when he was heels over head in love with Lottie? Now if Harry Wallingford can snatch the sun from its fiery chariot as it spans the sky and put it in his pocket, and convert light into darkness, then may he expect to make me believe that my boy is a villain. Ah, ha! don’t you see? My noble boy was the very soul of honor, the paragon of men, the embodiment of truth, and a stranger to deception. Ah, ha! you see how it is yourself, my dear madame; some intriguing villain is at the bottom of this business, and a horrible suspicion tells me that Harry has been led into a trap. Ah, ha! yes, he has suffered himself to be used as a tool by some scheming rascal who wanted to get rid of my boy! It is Heartsell or Bowles, perhaps both. Ah, ha! don’t you see? I will ransack the globe, and plow every sea, and skim every ocean, but I will find my brave, noble boy! If they have killed him, they had better get on the other side of the world without delay, else I will increase the population of hell with their souls. Ah, ha! don’t you see?’

“‘How is my sister now, doctor?’ said Harry, as he met the old physician on the veranda at two o’clock.

“‘Bad enough. Ah, ha! bad enough, my boy; brain fever—serious attack—dangerous disease—life in great peril; bad business this—another bright angel added to the Heavenly band. Ah, ha! don’t you see how it is, my boy? The world loses, Heaven wins; bright young life foolishly extinguished; had rather die myself; will save her if possible, but don’t believe it possible. You hear people talk about broken hearts, ah, ha? that is a mistake—hearts never break; the brain may be broken; then the soul becomes alarmed and deserts the body. Lottie’s brain is injured—that affects the nerves; ah, ha! don’t you see? Then convulsions ensue, which worries the circulation, and a general collapse of the whole system follows; final result, death or insanity. Ah, ha! yes, death winds up the show in a majority of such cases. Poor girl! she loved Edward very dearly, and he was devoted to her.’

“‘In that respect,’ replied Harry, ‘I am sorry to inform you that you are very much mistaken; Edward Demar did not love my sister. The fact that he was a double-faced hypocrite and faithless traitor has been proved beyond the possibility of a doubt. I was foolish enough to believe he was an honorable man who loved my sister truly, but he has betrayed her and eloped with another woman.’

“‘Ah, ha! look up there, my boy,’ exclaimed the doctor, as he pointed heavenward; ‘do you see that bright star yonder, just to the left of the moon?’

“‘Yes, certainly I do; but what of that?’

“‘Do you notice how near it appears to the branches of that elm tree? it seems to be within three feet of that large limb; ah, ha! do you see it, my boy?’

“‘Yes, very true; it looks as if it were fastened among the branches of that tree.’

“‘Ah, ha! yes, very good, my boy; will you be so kind as to step up on top of that tree, pluck that beautiful bright star from its place in the sky, and bring it to me?’

“Harry began to stare at the doctor with feelings of anger and astonishment.

“‘This is no time to crack jokes, Doctor Dodson, and I am grieved to be compelled to remind you of it.’

“‘Joking, ah, ha! who is joking? I never was in deeper earnest in my life; why do you refuse to do such a trifling favor for me? I want a pretty planet snatched from the heavens, and you will not do it for me.’

“‘Doctor, I confess your language astonishes me; I have ever had a high regard for your opinion, and would make any sacrifice to serve you, but when you ask me to do absurd impossibilities, you can hardly expect a serious answer.’

“‘Ah, ha! you tell me that you cannot snatch that star from the sky, yet you try to make me believe that Edward Demar has eloped with another woman. Whenever I see you take that planet in your hand and lay it down at my feet, then you may try to convince me that my boy was dishonest. Ah, ha! yes, you see how it is yourself, don’t you? Did you ever hear of a certain monkey who raked the chestnuts out of the fire with the paw of an unsuspecting cat? Ah, ha! yes, of course you have; very good, then, you are the unsuspecting cat, and Heartsell is the monkey, and he has been using your paw to rake out his chestnuts. Ah, ha! to be plain, that man wanted to marry your sister; she loved my boy, and therefore Heartsell wants him out of the way; he uses you as his tool to remove his rival; ah, ha! don’t you see? Heartsell has practiced a fraud of some sort on you, deceived you, cheated you, and in all probability ruined you, and killed your sister. Ah, ha! don’t you see?’

“‘Doctor Dodson,’ replied Wallingford, ‘I know my faults are numerous; I confess that my unfortunate temper often gets the advantage of my judgment; I may have acted too rashly in this affair, but it was my duty to guard my dear sisters honor; and when I tell you that she has been deceived by Ed Demar, I only tell you that which I know positively. With my own eyes I saw him in the arms of another woman; that woman has disappeared, so has Demar; and that he has fled with her is a fact beyond controversy.’

“At that moment Mrs. Rockland came to the door and requested the doctor to go in to his patient, informing him that she was again in convulsions.

“Harry hurried out of the house and bared his burning brow to the falling dew, while he beat his breast with his clinched fist, hoping to still the gnawing conscience that was torturing his restless soul. All through the night he continued to wander in the garden, half mad with grief, muttering to himself, while the hot blood in his veins seemed to be collecting in his fevered cheeks and heated brow. At early dawn he went in search of Heartsell, and found him sound asleep in his bedroom.

“‘Get up, Heartsell,’ he said, as he hurried in, ‘I must speak with you.’

“‘What’s up now, old fellow; something serious, I guess, else you would not be out so early.’

“‘Ah, Heartsell, I never have passed such a night; I did not go to bed at all. My poor sister is dangerously ill; she thinks that we have murdered Demar, and the doctor is afraid she will die.’

“‘Indeed, Wallingford, that is awful news! Why should she think that we have killed Demar?’

“‘He wrote her a letter telling her all about the contemplated duel, left it with his clerk, to be delivered in the event of his not getting back by eight o’clock. In that letter he told her that if he was not killed, he would be at home at eight, and because he did not come, she concludes that we have killed him. Now, why should he write such a letter if he intended to run away?’

“‘I must confess that it is very strange.’

“‘Has it ever occurred to you that some accident might have happened to him, and that he did not absent himself willingly?’

“‘No; I never had dreamed of such a thing.’

“‘I am afraid we have been too hasty in this business. I love my darling sister as I do my life, and I begin to repent of my rashness in this matter. She refused to let me touch her, shrank from me as if I were a savage wild beast ready to tear her to pieces, cast upon me such a strange, wild look as caused the blood to freeze in my veins, and spoke of my hands being stained with Ed Demar’s blood. Then all at once she broke down, and when the doctor came he said that she was threatened with brain fever, and before midnight she was unconscious.’

“‘That is very unfortunate, Wallingford, and as soon as she regains consciousness, I’ll go to see her and tell her that you did not hurt Demar; she certainly will believe me.’

“‘If you take my advice, you will not let my sister see you, until you can prove Demar to be alive and unhurt. The manner in which she spoke of you was anything but complimentary, I can tell you. She regards you as the cause of all the trouble, accuses you of influencing me; and the truth is, Heartsell, you did persuade me into it. We have been rash and hasty in this matter, and I begin to repent of the part I have played in it. I wish I could be like other men, but my unfortunate temper won’t let me. Most people think before they act, but I act first and then do the thinking when it is too late. A most horrible suspicion is crawling over me. I begin to think after all that Demar has not run away. He owns a half-interest in a drug-store here with ten thousand dollars; he made no disposition of it except to will his interest to my sister in the event of his death. He left a sealed paper with his clerk to be delivered to Lottie, and it turns out to be a will. Now, if he had been married to the other woman, why should he will his property to my sister?’

“‘Indeed, that does look a little strange; but what can we do to clear up the mystery?’

“‘Put detectives to work to find out what has become of Demar. Has it ever occurred to you that the woman might have been some relative of Demar?’

“‘No; I have never dreamed of such a thing; but why should he elope with her if she was a relation?’

“‘I don’t believe he went away with her, because he took a freight train and started to Horn Lake. I believe he intended to keep his appointment with us, but met with an accident—perhaps has been murdered.’

“‘Wallingford, your language puzzles me; give me time to think.’

“‘Yes, it is very proper we should both do a little serious thinking. It is a pity we didn’t do that before. Instead of acting so rashly, we should have demanded an explanation of Demar, and afforded him an opportunity to make it. I can see now the great error we committed. He might have been able to explain it all to our satisfaction, but we did not give him a chance.’

“When Harry left Heartsell, his affection for that gentleman was considerably decreased.

“Time continued to drag along very slowly, or at any rate it seemed so to Harry Wallingford. Lottie’s life appeared to be gradually but surely drawing to a close. Her beautiful golden hair had commenced to come out, while the flesh appeared to shrink away. The color had fled from her cheeks, and her eyes gazed listlessly at the ceiling. She would lie immovable from day to day, never complaining, never uttering a word, except occasionally to whisper the name of Eddie. When her reason resumed its throne, she continued to ask for Eddie, and on being told that he never had been heard from, the tears would flow slowly down her cheeks.

“‘They have killed Eddie; he is in Heaven, though, and I am going to see him soon. Give me my darling’s picture, mother.’

“When it was given to her she pressed it to her pale lips.

“‘You loved my poor unfortunate brother, and never would do him wrong; yet they killed you.’

“Such language was usually uttered in a low, dove-like tone, and she would continue for hours at a time conversing to the picture. When Harry would enter the room she would turn her face to the wall and shiver, as if she were very cold. When he spoke to her she would hold the corner of a quilt over her ear, as if his voice gave her pain. The doctor finally advised him not to visit his sister until the state of her mind should change.

“‘She thinks you have killed Eddie,’ said Doctor Dodson to Harry, ‘and so long as she clings to that idea, I think it best for you not to let her see you. Poor girl! she can’t last much longer. There is only one remedy that could save her life, and I fear we shall not be able to get that in time.’

“‘What is that, doctor?’ exclaimed Harry, as a new hope began to rise in his breast.

“‘If Eddie could be found, she would be all right in a week, but if not, she will be in Heaven before that time.’

“‘Oh, merciful Providence! what shall we do? Doctor Dodson, you are not going to let my darling die, are you?’

“‘Ah, ha! my dear boy, we must bow submissively to the will of God. A physician may patch up the machinery, but he can’t make a human heart. That poor girl’s heart is desperately wounded, and nothing on earth can cure it except a look at Eddie Demar. Present him before your sister alive and in good health, and I warrant a cure; fail to do it, and you may go dig her grave!’

“‘Oh, doctor, this is horrible; it will kill me, too, if she dies, believing I have murdered Eddie! Can’t you quiet her mind with opiates until her physical strength returns?’

“‘Ah, ha! my boy, that’s all you know about it; I have given her as much of that sort of medicine as her system will bear, and I tell you again, you had better find my boy, and that without delay, unless you expect to see your sister die. Ah, ha! when that poor girl dies, this world will lose one of its brightest jewels, and Heaven will receive one of the brightest angels that ever went there. Poor Viola will lose her best friend, and we will be left to mourn over crushed hopes. I should like to know what sad fate has overtaken my poor boy. He was the light of my life and the joy of my house. Ah, ha! indeed he was! Some foul play somewhere; ah, ha! my boy; mind you, though, I don’t mean to scold you, Harry; ah, ha! you see I couldn’t have the heart to do it. Heaven knows you have enough to bear anyway.’

“‘Yes,’ replied Harry, ‘it is all my fault, but I thought I was acting for the best.’

“‘No doubt you did, ah, ha! my boy, but it has turned out to be a bad job. We are all ruined unless Eddie can be found.’

“‘I’ll find him, if he is on the globe, doctor!’ exclaimed Wallingford, as he hastened from the room.”

“We will take a recess now,” said the queen, as she rose from her seat and took Ingomar’s arm.